


Sweeter than Sugar

by starrynoctsky (lightinthehall)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Established Relationship, M/M, Maid Cafe, brotherhood era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 15:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightinthehall/pseuds/starrynoctsky
Summary: He almost spits out his first sip when Noctis turns away from him to present Gladio with a large, pink slush drink, briefly flashing a peek of bare thigh and the edge of a ruffled lace undergarment.Ramuh above.Ignis isn’t sure how much more he can take.[ a gift for gwiiyeoweo for the ignoctgiftexchange]





	Sweeter than Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GwiYeoWeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwiYeoWeo/gifts).



> Thank you to Salt for being a wonderful beta, as always <3
> 
> To gwiiyeoweo, I'm so sorry for making you wait! I hope you enjoy this fic :') I tried to include a little of hint of everything for you <3

_4:30PM Hall C!!! :-)!!!_

Ignis swipes at his phone screen, dismissing Prompto’s text back into the messaging app as he gets out of his car. As expected, the parking lot is exceptionally crowded today. Luckily, Ignis still has access to the Crown’s reserved parking space, where the prince usually meets him after his final classes. Today, however, Ignis is not on duty.

It’s a beautiful day for the fair, a little breezy with the sun shining brightly overhead. Pleased that he’d forgone his formal blazer, Ignis pockets his phone and keys into his light altissian-violet cardigan, following the path towards the main building.

The school grounds have been completely transformed. Colourful booths, signs, and stalls fill the outdoor athletics field. Several overlapping tunes can be heard alongside the laughter and excited chatter of the visiting families and students milling about.

Though Ignis has never attended Insomnia High, this would his fourth year at the annual spring fair at Noctis’ invitation. The students in their various classes and clubs host a variety of activities and entertainment for their families to take part in. A large part of the proceeds goes toward the school, while showcasing the leadership and talents of the students themselves.

There’s always something different every year. Ignis passes by a group of students wearing brightly striped vests selling cotton candy clouds, a delicious-smelling Galahdian barbecue stand, and a carnival fishing game that Noctis would likely enjoy.

While highly athletic and talented in crafting, Noctis doesn’t typically partake in school activities (save the year he was cast in the school play). However, the spring festival has always been something the prince had looked forward to. Ignis has found himself eagerly anticipating it as well, if only because Noctis’ enthusiasm is endearing… and contagious.

Ignis had his recitals, his Crownsguard tournaments, the delegate conferences, but he entertains the thought of a small booth with a bar counter, fresh fish, and perfectly cooked rice. Perhaps Noctis could work with him, relaying orders or helping Ignis behind the counter when the demand is high. Ignis smiles to himself. He could even get them matching chef’s headbands.

Or… it’s an idea best for the quiet of Noctis’ apartment. In public, Ignis and Noctis are expected to present a different sort of familiarity and skill.

It’s an issue that Prompto does not have, something that Ignis knows there’s no use in envying the boy for, despite the nagging feeling in his chest. Noct’s new friendship with Prompto in his first year had led to a carnival version of their favourite arcade game _Stalking Dead_ , complete with foam dart guns and truly gruesome-looking zombie targets. It had been credited as Noctis’ idea, but Ignis knows that the prince would have never participated had Prompto not been encouraging him.

The experience had clearly sparked something within the prince. The second year, Noctis convinced his class to team up with the local animal shelter he’d started volunteering at, and they’d run a ‘petting zoo’ which had resulted with many of the cats and dogs adopted into new families by the end of the day. There’d been a shy, teary little boy who’d taken to one of Noctis’ favourite kittens, the parents easily convinced in taking the black bundle of fur home. Which, Ignis suspects, is the entire reason Noctis had arranged the collaboration in the first place.

Last year had been particularly notable. Noctis’ classmates had become savvy to the advantage they held over the other classes (namely, the powerful draw of the crown prince). The design had been a split between a dunk tank and a kissing booth, where one would choose a student to either fall into the large tank of water, or to come down to bestow a kiss on the cheek.

Wanting to support the prince in all his endeavours, or so he’d firmly told himself, Ignis, red-faced and clutching his little paper ticket, had stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of swooning high school girls. Noctis’ face had flushed just as brightly when he’d approached, and at the time, the short, nervous press of his lips to the curve of Ignis’ cheek had been an arrow straight to his heart. (He’d lined up for that one _twice_ – the second kiss being significantly wetter than the first, as Noctis had just been dunked by Gladio in the previous turn).

Since then, things have slowly begun to change between them. Noctis lingers within Ignis’ personal space more often, leans into his touches, and makes him small gifts that Ignis keeps hidden away in his private rooms. Kisses are brief, shared heat between their lips at doorways, rushed goodnights and sleepy hellos. It’s terribly distracting, and surprisingly romantic despite the way Noctis tends to stumble over his words. In turn, Ignis longs to take Noctis into his arms, to surround him in love and pleasure until all he can muster is to call out Ignis’ name.

Heavy heat spreads within Ignis’ veins at the thought of his shy prince. They’ve progressed slowly, Ignis cautious of pushing too far, his fear of scaring Noctis away is always on his mind. He’ll take this at Noctis’ pace, for as long as he needs.

“Can you _believe_ Class 4-A this year? Do you think we’ll have time to go again later?”

“I wish. Size of that line? We’d be there all day.”

Chattering students pass on either side of Ignis as he walks through the open doors of the school’s main building. Ignis is unsurprised the event is drawing a lot of attention, though he still has no idea what they’ve planned for this year. Noctis and Prompto have been quiet on the topic when usually, Noctis’ apartment would be a mess of drawings and discarded plans.

Ignis relaxes as he escapes the crush of the crowd; there are fewer people in the halls as most of the festivities are held outside. A large black poster board is propped up in the middle of the entranceway, reading _Class 4-A (Hall C)_ in elegant golden cursive above a bold arrow pointing to the right. The logo is a minimalist design of the outline of a coffee cup and a feathery object sticking out from it.

Hmm.

As he approaches, Ignis spots a long queue of people down the hall outside a set of double doors with a _‘C’_ emblazoned on the plaque above. The line extends beneath a series of flowery archways, and black balloons depicting the same coffee cup logo.

_A café, then_. Ignis hums, curiosity rising; this hardly explains the need for Noctis’ elusive behaviour this past month.

“Welcome!” he hears as he falls in line. Ignis is greeted by a girl he recognizes from Noct’s class.

_Trissa Feldgrau_ , Ignis recalls from the dossier on Noctis’ classmates. _Violin prodigy, parents own a large bakery in Central Insomnia_. Trissa’s dark brown hair is tied up in a neat bun, and her school uniform has been replaced with a simple white dress shirt and black vest combination.

“Table for one?” she smiles brightly, handing him a menu.

“Make it two.” Trissa’s eyes widen when she glances over Ignis’ shoulder. Huffing, Ignis turns to face Gladio, the prince’s shield sauntering up to them. Even in a casual black hoodie, Gladiolus is an intimidating presence to an ordinary citizen, and the girl steps back, expression openly star-struck. Compared to Ignis, Gladio is a public figure, hailing from a family of wealth and nobility. And obviously, the shield is Noctis’ very visible shadow in every broadcast or public appearance. Even amongst the Crownsguard, it’s difficult to mistake the tall, heavily-muscled shield for anyone else.

“A-ah, Lord Amicitia,” she says, stumbling over the formalities but still managing to force a smile back onto her face. She holds out another menu. “Welcome to the spring festival.”

Gladio leans in and grins widely at her as he takes it, and Ignis resists the urge to roll his eyes as a blush spreads across the girl’s face. The man is utterly shameless. When Trissa is called over to another patron, Gladio notices Ignis’ raised eyebrow and laughs.

“Lighten up, Iggy. She was definitely checking you out before I got here, I’m just looking out for his highness.”

Ignis scoffs, ignoring the reddening of his own cheeks as he reaches up to fix his hair, straightening the bangs across his forehead. “Of course you were,” he replies dryly.

They stand together in line, slowly inching ever-forward. Ignis is vaguely aware of the hushed whispers around them but growing up with Noctis has taught him to pay them no mind.

“Have you come straight from the Citadel?” Ignis asks. With Noctis’ upcoming graduation and coronation, their responsibilities have been steadily increasing. The shield has been taken away for more field lessons with Cor and Clarus, closely shadowing his father and preparing for the future transition as Noctis takes one step closer to the throne.

“Nah, was with Iris all morning, and then Cor dropped me off.”

“Using the Immortal as a chauffeur, _Lord Amicitia_?” It’s Ignis’ turn for amusement. The topic is a well-known sore point, one that Noctis and Ignis can’t help but prod on a regular basis. “At this rate, Iris will attain her license before you.”

Gladio huffs indignantly. “He offered. He was on his way to the Gates anyway.”

_The marshall headed to the Gates? A sign of trouble beyond the Wall._ Ignis nods grimly, filing away the information for later.

“You guys made it!”

“ _Holy Shiva.”_

_Language,_ Ignis is on the verge of saying, but his jaw falls slack as Prompto bounds up to them, fully clad in a _maid’s dress_.

“Welcome to class 4-A’s _maid café!”_ Prompto’s face breaks into a gleeful, mischievous grin at their stunned silence.

Maid _café._ Suddenly, the feathered object in the logo is quite obvious.

“Heh, yeah. Looks good, right?” Prompto asks, spinning around and posing with his hand on his cocked hip, where the short, ruffled white apron ties around his waist. A matching ruffled headband sits atop the boy’s short, blond hair.

“I kinda hate these puffed sleeves though,” he says, pinching said sleeves of the black dress and smoothing out the bright yellow ribbon tied over his flat chest. Ignis absently notes the matching yellow ribbon wrapped around his wrist instead of his usual wristband and bracelets. “They totally give me man shoulders.”

“…buuut,” Prompto continues nonchalantly. “You can’t really complain when the prince is the one who designed them.”

Ignis’ mind, which had slowly started regaining function, quickly screeches to another sudden halt.

“ _Noctis_ designed…?” In one fell swoop, years of training in schooled expressions of dignity are lost;  Ignis is sure his eyes are as wide as a tonberry’s. Beside him, Gladio’s eyebrows have disappeared high into his cap. Prompto snickers at the pair of them.

“Uh-huh. As head of the student council, he had to organize the whole thing, but he really went all out for these outfits.”

Feeling light-headed, Ignis pushes his glasses up.  “I didn’t realize the two of you frequented those establishments.”

“Don’t say it _like that_ ,” Prompto exclaims. “They’re cafés, not strip clubs. Besides, we’ve only been to the one that opened by the arcade.”

Prompto proved an effective distraction as soon enough, they’ve reached the front of the line. The blond still looks entirely too satisfied with himself as he ushers them through the door.

Ignis feels as if he’s stepped into another world. Sunlight streams through the large skylights in the high ceiling of the dining hall, lending a dream-like quality to the cutesy decorations, and the silver and pink balloons interspersed with bouquets of flowers. Café tables full of guests are set-up throughout the room, tended by _very male_ maids moving between the tables.

One of these maids walks past them, tray laden with mugs and colourful sodas. His uniform is exactly the same as Prompto’s but his stocky frame doesn’t pull off the look quite as well as Prompto – not that it matters to the giggling group of young women he’s serving, who cheer as he flexes for them.

“Welcome!” Prompto calls out as they make their way through, and a chorus of other maids bustling around the room greet them. A few of the female students from Noctis’ class greet them as well, however, they’re wearing the simple shirts, vests and black pants as Trissa had been.

“They couldn’t _all_ wear the dresses?” Gladio grumbles underneath his breath.

Prompto leads them around before reaching a table near the centre of the room. “Here we are!”

“You already have the food menu. _This_ is the Maid Menu,” Prompto says, handing each of them a smaller, laminated card as Ignis and Gladio pull up their chairs. He places three golden coins in between their placemats. Gladio curiously picks one up, flipping it with a flick of his fingers, holding it up so Ignis can see. There’s the cup logo engraved on one side and the face of a chocobo on the other.

“Each table gets three maid tokens, and you can use them to order from the Maid Menu.”

Ignis briefly glances at the card.

“ _Chocky game?_ ” he chokes out.

“ _Ok!_ Now the rules! One, no touching!” Prompto steamrolls over him, pulling out a small sign from his apron pocket. It shows a cartoon hand covered by a comically large ‘X’. “And that goes for everyone else too, so you Crownsguard folk can relax.”

“Two, no photos. I’ve got that covered,” Prompto says, holding up a new image of crossed out camera and gesturing to the real camera hanging on his hip.

“Three, enjoy yourselves!” Another sign, this time with a big yellow smiling chocobo face and a green check mark. Prompto holds it up to his own face, grin as big as the chocobo’s, winking at the two of them. “Noct will be right out.”

“Looks like he’s having fun,” Gladio muses as Prompto bounds away, skirt bouncing as he goes. Ignis is still trying to process _no touching_ when he hears his friend sigh heavily. “Ignis. Breathe.”

Gladio, for all that he reads about lovestruck fools and the crush of romance, doesn’t tolerate Ignis’ artless pining. He’s heard about it enough over the years. Ignis blinks, staring blankly at the menu he has clutched in his fist, the cardstock irreparably bent.

“This cannot possibly be approved by the Crown,” is what he blurts out instead of all the other, inappropriate thoughts his imagination is running wild with.

“Actually, Dad was just here.”

Whatever breath Ignis had managed to collect immediately escapes. Noctis walks up to their table carrying an empty tray under his arm.

He’s a _vision_.

Soft, dark hair frames his face in his customary style underneath the ruffled headband, and his deep-blue eyes are accentuated by a subtle black liner. There appears to be several personal adjustments to his own outfit. Prominent on his chest is a black bow with a golden heart amulet in the centre. His apron cinches around his small waist with thin, delicate golden ribbons crossing over each other like a mini-corset. White lace peeks past his pleated black skirt revealing a dizzying amount of bare thigh, his legs appearing even more slender and touchable wrapped in the soft material of his knee-high socks.

Ignis takes in the view like a man dying of thirst. It should look ridiculous, but Noctis wears the ensemble as if it were made for him, the elegance of his toned body on full display.

“He came by with Clarus,” Noctis says, rubbing the back of his neck, apparently unaware of the crisis unfolding in Ignis’ head. “It was cool. Dad took enough pics to last for _years_ of blackmail. Prompto didn’t have the guts to stop him.” His face flushes, but there’s proud curve to his lips. No doubt Noctis had been pleased to show his father how successful his event had turned out. Even if he had to endure all the teasing.

“Your Highness,” Ignis starts, clearing his throat as he loses any and all eloquence he possesses when Noctis turns to him, ocean-blue eyes glittering with expectation. “I… you…”

“What he’s trying to say is that you look good, princess,” Gladio says, shoulders shaking with laughter as he leans back in his chair mercifully drawing Noctis’ attention away from Ignis. “Oh man, Iris is gonna love this.”

“Just ‘cause you’re my shield doesn’t mean I can’t take you to court for treason,” Noctis huffs, lifting the tray to hide the finger he’s giving Gladio. The shield responds in kind, holding up his menu, making Ignis wonder why he bothers trying to protect the royal image at all.

At least their childish display had allowed Ignis a chance to collect himself. “Noctis… you look stunning. Truly.”

The prince stares back at him, face reddening into a deep flush at the effusive sincerity in Ignis’ words.

“A-anyway, what do you guys want to drink?” Noctis asks, looking determinedly at his order pad, cheeks still as red as a Lucian tomato.

Ignis bites back a smile. “Do you have…?”

“Ebony? Yeah, I made sure,” Noctis says, shrugging off his own thoughtfulness.

Gladio orders a kupoberry slush, earning him an amused look from his friends. “What? It says it comes with a moogle charm. I can give it to Iris.”

“Whatever you say, big guy. You guys take a look at the menu. I’ll be back with the drinks.”

Ignis shamelessly watches him walk away, the apron’s bow bouncing with each step.

“Should I get a medic? Pull out a phoenix down?”

Ignis levels Gladio with a hard glare. “Hardly necessary.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Noctis disappear through large swinging doors. A few moments later, Noctis re-appears from the kitchens carrying a tray full of drinks. He’s stopped by Prompto and another fellow maid, and Ignis watches as they laugh, Noctis fist-bumping the other two. Still carrying his full tray, prince stops to attend to another table of young men, setting down some drinks. They’re somewhat rowdy, pointing at one of the menus.

Noctis moves his hands up, gesturing at the patrons to stand. It takes some doing, as some of the men appeared hesitant to participate. Once they’re all standing, Noctis points at himself and lifts his arms in the air, stepping side-to-side, encouraging them all to copy him.

It’s a dance that Ignis hasn’t seen since their childhood, when His Majesty had brought them to a local Moogle fair. Seeing the prince re-create the dance in a maid costume is quite entertaining, save for his sharp irritation at the obvious ogling from the other patrons.

Noctis claps for the group once they’ve all completed their awkward shuffling. The men laugh, pleased at their own silliness and hand him a token.

“Does Noct seem… different?”

“Well. He’s wearing a dress.”

Another glare. “It wasn’t long ago that Noctis would avoid any and all social events like this.”

Gladio grunts in agreement. “Kid’s growing up. There are people depending on him to make this event successful, and he’s not going to let his classmates down. He managed to convince all the guys in his class to parade around in _dresses_. That’s pretty hard to do, prince or not. He doesn’t know it, but he’s got a knack for reaching out to people, earning their loyalty.”

Ignis nods. This is a fact he knows well, the people around the prince who hadn’t been put off by his aloof guise have become his strongest supporters.

Simply watching the prince from across the room, Ignis feels proud. Yes, Noctis may be serving drinks wearing a maid costume, but with the way the prince carries himself, graceful and poised amongst his citizens, Ignis can’t help but feel he’s getting a glimpse of his future king. The heat in his veins returns with a vengeance.

Feeling a tad overwhelmed, Ignis peers down at the café menu. _Golden chocobo tart, chiffon cake, Taelpar harvest galette_ …

Ignis is jolted out of his thoughts when Gladio stands abruptly, knocking into the table. He immediately follows Gladio’s narrowed gaze to find Noctis pulling his skirt down, fending off a patron’s wandering hands.

_How dare he –_ before Ignis can so much as move to summon his daggers, Prompto appears, stepping in between Noctis and the offending man. With his arms crossed and squared shoulders, the typically cheerful blond stares him down with such contempt that even Ignis is impressed. Suddenly, the boy’s plan to enlist with the Crownsguard next year seems… plausible. In that moment, he’s more than a skinny boy wearing a maid’s outfit. He snaps his fingers and two of their classmates run up, escorting the rude patron out the door.

There had been a hush as the other customers looked on curiously – even a few cheers as the man was dragged away. Soon enough the excitement settles down and everyone returns to their conversations.

Gladio finally sits down and lets out a long breath, likely trying to cool off. Ignis’ fingers are clenched tightly around the cell phone in his pocket. How anyone could _think_ they deserve to lay hands on the prince is beyond him.

Prompto leads Noctis back to their table, speaking to him in quiet tones. Ignis can’t hear the conversation but he sees Noctis shaking his head in response.

“Are you alright, Noct?” Ignis immediately asks once Noctis is close enough, his sharp eyes searching for any visible injuries.

“I’m fine,” Noctis says, shrugging off Prompto’s hand from his shoulder. He furrows his brows as he shifts his feet self-consciously. “Seriously. You can all – _all three of you_ – relax.”

The tension thrumming amongst the four of them breaks as the prince crosses his arms and scowls, not making eye contact with any of them. It’s not an uncommon move for the prince, but in full maid wardrobe, the pout is disarmingly adorable.

Catching onto his mood, Ignis hides an amused smile behind his hand. Meanwhile, the tight line of Gladio’s shoulders relaxes, and Prompto bumps his elbow into Noct’s side.

“Alright, alright. Put that pout away. But if anyone else tries to cop a feel, don’t hesitate to drop-kick ‘em.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis says, a small smile returning to the corner of his mouth.

Apparently appeased, Prompto salutes them before slipping away to return to his post.

Noctis sighs, glancing at Ignis. “You’ve already texted Cor, haven’t you?”

“But of course,” Ignis answers readily, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. Noctis should have made the call himself, but he would never think to press charges against his own people. When the matter involves Noctis, Ignis is not quite as merciful.

Noctis steps away for a moment and returns with his tray of drinks. Ignis has to resist the urge to take the tray; the idea of Noct serving _him_ is so counter-intuitive, he almost feels guilty for merely sitting there. A steaming mug of coffee is set down in front of him, the tell-tale waft of Ebony’s darkly roasted coffee beans reaching his nose.

He almost spits out his first sip when Noctis turns away from him to present Gladio with a large, pink slush drink, briefly flashing a peek of bare thigh and the edge of a ruffled lace undergarment. _Ramuh above_.

Ignis isn’t sure how much more he can take.

So of course, Noctis holds up the Maid Menu. “D’you guys pick a game yet?”

“You’ve got three tokens. So…” Noctis flips the card around to read aloud. “ _Moogle Dance_ is one token, _Sweet Spoonfuls_ is worth two, and the _Chocky Game_ costs three tokens.”

Gladio snorts, with a side-glance at Ignis. “I choose life.”

“We… must we?” The room is becoming unbearably hotter by the moment – and simultaneously draining of the oxygen that Ignis needs to breathe. He’s fairly certain he’s going to embarrass himself irreparably. Or bring shame upon the Crown. He’s not sure which is worse.

“Come on, Specs…” Noctis says, gently placing the three golden tokens in Ignis’ open palm, evening blue eyes gazing into his, the fabric of his skirt brushing against Ignis’ knees. “Play with me?”

A strangled noise escapes from Ignis’ throat.

Mouth dry, and static muffling his ears, he shakily points to one of the menu items.

“Great.” Noctis leans back and smiles as bright as the sun. “I’ll take these,” he says, lifting each coin from Ignis’ slack hand and depositing them into his front apron pocket.

From that same pocket, Noctis retrieves a box of chocolate-covered Chocky.

“Hold this for me?” he asks, voice light and playful, holding up the icing-free end of the biscuit to take. Ignis complies, biting down to keep the stick still between his lips, trying to control his hard breathing as Noctis presses closer to him. Two fingers press beneath Ignis’ chin, gently tilting his face up towards Noct’s.

In Noctis’ other hand is a thin slip of plastic in the shape of a chocobo. He slides the chocobo down onto the biscuit stick until the plastic sits in the middle.

“First one to the chocobo flag wins,” Noct says, drawing the other end of the biscuit between soft, pink lips. “Ready?”

“Three…”

“Two…” A flash of tongue.

“One…”

Ignis’ back is already aching from the way he’s sitting ramrod straight. His hands clutch tightly to the chair, helplessly staring back into a royal blue gaze.

He’s barely tasted chocolate when suddenly the plastic chocobo is pushed against his lips, held there by Noctis’ mouth.

Ignis’ eyes slip closed. The  world seems far away, out of reach. Only the warmth of Noctis’ lips through the thin barrier anchors him. Somewhere beyond his bliss, Gladio coughs deliberately loudly, and there’s a whirr and click of a camera.

When Noctis backs away, chewing casually as he goes, Ignis bites clean through the leftover Chocky stick, the remainder falling into his lap.

“I win,” Noctis declares, the same smug smile on his face as if he’d managed to score higher than Ignis in a video game. This time though, there’s a charming shade of pink upon his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“He’s gonna be out of commission for a while, princess. Better bring out the desserts.”

_Desserts?_ Ignis can’t think of anything sweeter than the prince’s kiss at the moment.

“Gotcha. Chiffon cake for Specs, and galette for you, right?”

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur. The desserts are lovely, the chiffon cake is topped with a delicate cream, though Ignis prefers the cakes he and Noctis order from a bakery downtown. Noctis is sure to brush against Ignis at every opportunity, at one point, his skirt partially drapes over Ignis’ lap as he bends over to take the plates away. The drag of the fabric against his pants is enough to set his entire being aflame. He can scarcely control himself. He’s not sure why his prince is so bold today, but he’s sending the signals that Ignis has been longing for.

The festival comes to an end as the sky darkens. Gladio and Ignis stay to watch as Noctis’ classmates surprise him with a giant bouquet of black Lucian roses, thanking him for planning the event. Noctis looks sheepish, still a tad twitchy in the spotlight, but he accepts them graciously, thanking them in turn for their hard work. It isn’t an elegant speech, but it is sincere, and Ignis is proud of him. Happy to see the prince celebrated for his accomplishment. Prompto frantically takes photos of the moment, aiming at every angle he can get of Noctis.

“Dad’s here to pick me up,” Gladio says, rolling his eyes when he sees the matching grins form on his friend’s faces. “Yeah, sure, laugh it up, you two. Proud of you, kid.” Gladio slaps Noctis on the back, then salutes Ignis before heading out.

Noctis walks Ignis to the door. It warms Ignis to see Noctis so content; with their ever-growing list of responsibilities, he suspects these moments will be harder to come by. Even so, he knows that he’ll work tirelessly to see that smile on Noctis’ face. “I’ve gotta help them clean up. You’re coming over, right?”

“If it please your Highness,” Ignis responds, heart thumping in his chest.

Noctis slips his hand into Ignis’ pocket, fingers caressing gently against Ignis’ thigh.

“For later,” he promises.

Noctis searches his eyes for a moment, before retreating into the room, leaving Ignis alone to his tumultuous thoughts in the empty hallway.

Dazedly sliding his hand into his pocket, Ignis pulls out a single golden token.

_Later_ could not come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> A/N:  
> 1) The items on the dessert menu are actual items served at the Square Enix cafe!
> 
> 2) I'm pretty sure Gladio is the only one of the boys that can't drive. Sorry Gladio, ilu. I'm sure he gets a cool motorcycle to make up for it.
> 
> 3) Chocky game - my attempt at FFXVing the Pocky Game, which is a real game in which people race to the middle of the pocky stick, often ending in a kiss. Not usually a plastic in-between, but that's just to reassure Ignis that Noct isn't giving away kisses to anyone who throws him a token! Poor Ignis.
> 
> 4) Class 4-A - 4th year and A - highest ranking students. Noctis got top grades, after all.
> 
> 5) I'm playing BOTW at the moment, so Trissa is a borrowed name from one of the NPCs. It seemed a good match for the names in FFXV haha.
> 
> Twitter: @starrynoctsky  
> Tumblr: @souslelys


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